


You Might Need It Someday

by castiel_ambrose



Series: French Fryes 1980's Soundtrack 'Verse [5]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Communication, Fluff, M/M, Somewhat, do i need to mention? 80s, not nice maxwell roth mentions, oh god do they communicate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27550792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castiel_ambrose/pseuds/castiel_ambrose
Summary: Things were still quiet as Jacob filled up a kettle with water and set it on the stove, letting it start to get hot before steeling himself and turning to face the man who quietly gave off nervous energy from his little corner like it was radioactive material.“Still can’t believe you actually hunted me down.”“I didn’t have the plan to. It was… My car was out of shop and I thought, well… It’s my day off, I was sort of in the neighborhood. Relatively. There’s a market not far from here that sells some nice-”Jacob sighed, a bit louder than necessary. “If you’re trying to bullshit me, please don’t. I’ve been doing it all my life.”“I’m not... 'bullshitting', as you say, really. I mean… I won’t lie and say I haven’t been thinking about you. A lot.” He crossed his arms and steadfastly looked at the boiling kettle of water. “And I was going to stay away. But I said it before. I don’t do one night stands. Especially when I know they could’ve… gone better.”---Communication? Communication. Things are starting to get serious between the both of them.
Relationships: Arno Dorian/Jacob Frye
Series: French Fryes 1980's Soundtrack 'Verse [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937935
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	You Might Need It Someday

Jacob tried not to make Arno wait too long as he closed the door and hurried back to his bedroom, grabbing a bleach-stained pair of tight black jeans and throwing them on. He squeezed into his cramped little bathroom and snuck a glance at himself in the mirror, knowing it was mostly all for naught as Arno had already seen him. His beard wasn’t as finely defined as it had been when they had last parted, sideburns already grown in well past a point where he was comfortable with it, but in the past few days, he hadn’t found it in himself to care since there was no one to impress or have swoon over him. He rubbed his eyes at the very least and made sure they looked somewhat alive before deeming things somewhat in order and heading out.

Arno was leaning against the wall near the front door, arms crossed tight in front of his chest and gaze downward, but he gave a small smile when Jacob opened the door and gestured for him to enter. He took his fill of a look as the man entered, seeing that he hadn’t changed all that much except that he was dressed much more casually than their night together. He had the same red scarf that both clashed with his outfit and worked with it, but with his somewhat clunky black boots, denim jacket, and the overall look he passed with, a person could be forgiven for thinking he was a yard worker instead of someone with an actual education. 

With some hesitation and after Jacob’s slight nod of approval, Arno took off the boots and left them near the front door, still opting to keep his jacket on. There was something here, now. Jacob had existed in Arno’s space, now Arno was to exist in his for even a small amount of time. The man’s eyes danced around the small space, Jacob noting the slight way his nose curled in disgust at whatever smell was emanating in the flat that the other couldn’t make out.

“How are you feeling?” Arno spoke up.

“What?”

“You have your ‘stupid fucking’ pants on. You said we could talk after that endeavor was accomplished.” 

“Can’t even let me be a halfway decent host and offer you something to drink, hmm?”

“Well… I wouldn’t mind that.” He admitted and Jacob, despite knowing he shouldn’t be stretching things out, left and bridged the small gap in the doorway between his living room and kitchen. Arno trailed behind him, seeming to make his home in one of the corners near the garbage bin. Things were still quiet as Jacob filled up a kettle with water and set it on the stove, letting it start to get hot before steeling himself and turning to face the man who quietly gave off nervous energy from his little corner like it was radioactive material. 

“Still can’t believe you actually hunted me down.”

“I didn’t have the plan to. It was… My car was out of the shop and I thought, well… It’s my day off, I was sort of in the neighborhood. Relatively. There’s a market not far from here that sells some nice-”

Jacob sighed, a bit louder than necessary. “If you’re trying to bullshit me, please don’t. I’ve been doing it all my life.”

“I’m not bullshitting, really. I mean… I won’t  **lie** and say I haven’t been thinking about you. A lot.” He crossed his arms and steadfastly looked at the boiling kettle of water. “And I was going to stay away. But I said it before. I don’t do one night stands. Especially when I know they could’ve… gone better.”

Jacob was silent for a while before shrugging and speaking with a brighter tone that he felt. “I thought it went really well. It felt nice. If you wanted me to leave a sticky note with a rating, sorry that I didn’t, I’d be happy to change that-”

“You’re not stupid. You know that’s not what I mean.” His arms uncrossed quickly and made some vague annoyed gesture, though he didn’t raise his voice despite the look on his face.

“Are you upset I didn’t stay behind for breakfast? ‘Cause-”

“Fine. I am. Upset about breakfast, if you want to call it that.” Arno cut him off. “Not because my feelings were hurt that you didn’t feel in the mood for eggs and toast. It was because you looked absolutely… The minute you stepped out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, it wasn’t… how I pictured things would end.”

“And how did you picture it ending?” Jacob tried to put some bite into his words, maybe mock him, but he found he couldn’t put anything but actual curiosity into the question, maybe hope for an answer he was unsure to feel about. Arno seemed to search himself, somehow trying to find the words for an answer that Jacob could hold onto.

“Not with you looking like you were ready to throw up and run.”

A somewhat startled laugh tore itself from Jacob’s throat, a bit muffled in his mouth, and he watched as Arno’s arms tightened across his chest and a faint blush took over his dark cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I promise. I’ve just… It was funny to me. A very poetic description of my mind after a shag.”

Arno tried to give him a glare but it was compounded by the small smile curling the corners of his mouth upwards. “And I find ‘shag’ a very poetic description in and of itself.”

“It fits well.” Jacob shrugged a bit. “Lots of uses.”

“Really?”

“Sort of.”

That one gathered a huff of air out of Arno’s nose in the faintest form of a laugh, and his posture seemed to relax slightly. The tension of the room had been lost somewhere in the awkwardness and pure-mindlessness of the whole situation, but Jacob knew it was ready to rear its head. It lay in wait until the water finished boiling and Jacob made sure to busy himself with preparing the tea to ready himself. 

“You still never answered my question. How are you feeling?”

Jacob knew that when a person asked how you felt, that there were a few ways they meant it.

The main way was to make conversation. The thing you would ask a friend or acquaintance you haven’t seen in some time to make them feel appreciated, or at least seen. Sometimes it was genuine, other times people used it as a leap pad to speak about themselves as soon as pleasantries were out of the way.

Another way, a little less common but still there, was when they wanted to make sure you were still on board with whatever event they had dragged you to, or whatever situation they had shoved you into. It was sort of a way for them to relieve any guilt they might feel about hoisting their obsessions onto someone who might be unwilling.

The final way was when they actually wanted to know. Where they cared, not for conversation or to ease their conscience. Where they saw a person and thought  _ Shit, maybe he’s having a bit of a rough day. Or a rough week. Maybe a shitty life in general,  _ and decided they wanted to get involved. His sister was one of those people, sometimes, when it came to him. Jacob stopped the repetitive motions of preparing drinks and half-turned to take in Arno, still near the bin. Maybe, Jacob foolishly hoped, this one could be one of those people as well. He had shown it, yeah, but now… 

“The same. Not good, not bad, just… the same. Not much has changed since that night. To be honest, if I can be,” Jacob rubbed his eyes, an excuse to finally look away, “I half forgot the days. They all sort of… mesh together after a while, you know?”

“In what way?”

“I dunno. Kinda weird to explain…” He slid the small teacup of hot water and the tea bag on the counter away from him and towards the man, earning the first trace of movement from him. “Just… You sleep, and then you wake up, and do fuck all. Then it starts over.”

Arno slowly nodded and began to steep his tea. “Have you left the apartment? Since you got back?”

“Not really. Haven’t had the need. Or the drive to do it, more like.”

“That’s not good.”

“No shit.” Jacob rolled his eyes a bit. “But it’s fine otherwise.”

“Doesn’t sound it, if I’m being honest. I, um…” Arno’s eyes darted from his cup to Jacob a few times. “I would offer to take you out, get you out of the apartment and we- No, not like that,” Arno was quick to add at the way Jacob’s body stiffened, “that’s not even important to me right now. I just… When’s the last time you even let the light in here? Or even got some?” He half-heartedly joked, barely brushing the thin curtains away from the window above Jacob’s sink. “I can tell Britain doesn’t exactly get the best weather, but-”

“No, Arno, it’s… It’s fine. Wasn’t you. Really. Just…” Jacob was quick to settle him once everything came back to him, but he hesitated. “Am I able to be honest right now?”

“Of course.” The conviction that came after a second was enough to make Jacob almost lose all hesitation. “If you can’t tell, that’s all I’ve wanted since I tracked you down here.”

“Nice to see you admit you hunted me down. But never mind, we’ll get back to that. Before you came, there was… My ex. Or, not ex anymore. Something. He swung by for a visit. You probably stepped by him on the sidewalk and didn’t even realize. But he knew I was here and let me sweat shit out for the past few days after I bailed with you outside the club.”

“Oh.” Arno slowly nodded, taking a long sip of his tea before speaking again. “And… did he do anything to you? Hurt you? Threaten you?”

“Not overtly.” He finally said, deliberating on everything, before glancing over at Arno for his reaction. At first glance, the man seemed unaffected. His face almost seemed a mask, or something set in stone to look impassive. But the longer Jacob looked, the more detail he found himself noticing; the subtle clench of a set jaw, holding back what he could only imagine were vile words. The beginnings of a fire in previously bright hazel eyes that seemed to darken in mood. 

The younger man was faintly fascinated at how someone that had seemed to barely take up any space at all not even ten minutes before in the corner of the room could completely switch on what seemed like a dime. Jacob knew he himself was capable of such a feat on most days, but that was because it was him. It sent the smallest chill down his spine to see such a look on someone who seemed to either be too bright for the world or much too relaxed for it.

“I promise he didn’t get physical or hit me-”

“That doesn’t make things  **better** . Shit, it- Just because he- I’m not mad at you. Believe me.” Arno set the cup down on the counter quickly, and the blaze in his eyes settled marginally into something softer. “I just- I deal with this a lot at work.”

“You’re an attorney.”

“One who works with families. Couples. A lot of times… I also deal with what goes wrong with them. And just because he didn’t hit you doesn’t mean he’s not a dick.”

“I could’ve been just as much of a dick back. Lot of assumptions you’ve got going on there,  _ Monsieur  _ Dorian.”

“I’m paid pretty well to know what I’m doing.”

“Fuck, why are you so weird?” Jacob asked, instead of offering a decent rebuttal. “Just because you happen to be a fancy big lawyer doesn’t mean you’re the end all-be all of relationships.”

Arno held his gaze for a while, and it was as steady as his voice as he finally spoke, quiet but firm. “We all have a past with something, Jacob Frye.”

The look knocked some of the wind out of Jacob’s sails, and he realized that, however unintentionally, he hit a soft spot. And while some small part of him, the part he really hated, felt some vindictive happiness at jabbing him before he could truly jab first, the rest of him just felt bad. So, instead of giving either part a leg up, he continued.

“Anyway. He didn’t get physical. But he did let me know everything. Reminded me about… the ‘details’ of our relationship.”

“Which are?” Arno’s voice returned to normal as he picked up his cup again.

“He owns me, for lack of a better term. When I said I was ‘between jobs’, it wasn’t a lie. I hadn’t been when I first started out with him, but… The past year, I just become complacent. And fucked myself. I still take jobs around London, mostly gigs that don’t last more than a week or so at a time. But nothing permanent.”

“So all this…?”

“He pays. Pays for my heat. Electricity. The very air I fucking breathe. Name it.” Jacob finished the tea, bitter on his tongue even after filling it with shit, and went for another cup.

“I take it he’s rich then.”

“Owns some businesses around the little shitty areas of town that he builds up, pushes competition out while he does it. And then he was some actor before that. Never ask him, or he’ll never shut up. Isn’t even that good at it, if I’m honest.”

“Good thing I never plan to meet him. At least, not without caving his face in with my briefcase.” The frank manner of his words made Jacob blink in shock, but the man continued on as if nothing happened. “ I get the situation is shitty, really. But… you can try and get out of it. You don’t need to feel like you belong to someone. Especially since it seems like you’re not exactly happy in it.”

“I get where you’re coming from. Really. But… it’s fine. It works.”

“Pardon what I say, but it doesn’t work. You’re being used.” Jacob didn’t have it in him to point out that, in the right circumstances and from certain viewpoints, he was using Roth just as much, but Arno was a few steps away from him without even thinking and he could hardly bring it in himself to speak as he stared the man right in his eyes. With a voice that surprised Jacob with how much it lacked intensity, he spoke again. “And no one deserves that.”

“Arno…” Jacob had to take a subtle, deep breath, one of his hands gripping the counter behind his back just slightly as he unconsciously leaned back. “I dunno how many times I gotta tell you. We had one night together. Hardly anything to justify worrying over me like this.”

“I know. I know, and I’m sorry. Sorry for all this. I just- I guess I…” Arno’s eyes darted away to something behind Jacob, and suddenly he found he missed the gaze, “I missed you. And I was worried. And I saw a lot that I thought I could fix and make better for someone I-” He stopped in his tracks suddenly and took a step away, still not looking at Jacob, but without thinking Jacob’s hand shot out and just barely grasped the front of his jacket. It was a weak one, something with his fingertips that could’ve been easily left without so much as a tug, but it was as if someone had attached something to Arno and pulled him back with how quickly and intensely he stopped his movement.

“Someone you what?” Jacob asked, all of this very important to him all of a sudden. Because he wanted to hear this, wanted to know what it was. He moved his head, searching his face until he finally caught Arno’s eye again, and spoke again with a desperate insistence he really did try to hide… mostly. “Tell me.”

“If you can’t  **already** tell, then someone I care about,” Arno spoke quietly, but with an honesty about him like the kind of a man who would lose everything would display. “Care about deeply. Even if it was one night that ‘hardly justifies’-”

He was cut off as Jacob closed the distance and kissed the words from his lips. There was no reaction for a second before he felt arms wrap around his waist, pulling him close. His hand was still holding onto Arno’s front and it was smushed between the both of their bodies, but Jacob quickly freed it and grabbed whatever part of Arno he could to pull him closer. He could taste the sugar and milk Arno had loaded into his drink, but beyond that, he could taste desperation and a sort of reverence, something gentle edging in despite how intense they both held each other. It was wrong, and it was right, and that was everything that Jacob needed. It continued on for a time Jacob couldn’t name, but it ended much too soon when a moan escaped from one of them and Arno pulled back quickly as if he had been hit. A flush was high on his cheeks and his eyes looked blown, even as concern edged in on them and overtook whatever breathless pleasure he was coming down from.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I-”

“I kissed you. Don’t worry about it.” Jacob was just as breathless, grip still on the Frenchman; he was pleased to see and feel that he was still being held as well despite how apologetic Arno looked; it meant he wasn't sorry. Not really, on some base level. He was as human as Jacob was.

“Still. You’re- It-  **Shit** . I thought you didn’t want this. You’re giving me very mixed signals, and I’m not exactly…”

“You’re so fucking good, Arno,” Jacob murmured, coming down from some of the haze. “I want it, alright? Roth is just… complicated. I’m complicated. We’re somehow a really good match like that. But you’re not complicated. And you care. Dunno the last time someone cared.”

“You… want me because I care,” Arno spoke slowly, hands leaving Jacob’s waist just a bit to go where Jacob’s biceps were and stayed there, holding onto him. For a second Jacob thought he was going to break them apart, but he just stayed there.

“Maybe. I want a lot of things that have to do with you. Especially now that I can tell you obviously aren’t going anywhere, if actively searching for me after remembering an address I mentioned in secrecy is anything to go by.”

“Are you ever going to drop that?” Arno sighed, good-natured, before growing serious. “I would leave if you wanted me to, though. Really. If you just said the word, I’d leave you be. And I wouldn’t come back.”

“I know you would. It’s why I want you to stay.”

“May I ask for how long?”

“For long as I can have you.”

“And Roth? Your… ‘something’?”

Jacob felt himself hesitate, trying to think of what to say. There wasn’t judgment in Arno’s tone, only… caution. Which Jacob could hardly blame him for, all things considering. 

“I’m thinking about that. About… getting out of the ‘shitty situation’. Just… not now. I need to- To try and make something before I can-”

“I understand.” Arno cut him off, and Jacob really hoped he did as he was pulled closer, away from the counter, and back into Arno’s arms. “It’s a lot. I still don’t think I help matters-”

“You do. Trust me.” Jacob cut him off. Arno studied him for a long time, until Jacob almost became uncomfortable with the scrutiny before he felt the man begin to pull away. Panic gripped tight at him, a quick fear that he had done or said something wrong, but it was gone in a flash as Arno spoke again.

“Do you have any plans for today?”

“Well… no. Not exactly.”

“Good. Then, if you please, take a shower. Get yourself ready. We’re going out.”

“You’re serious?”

“It’s breakfast time. You need food and actual air to breathe and think. Not secondhand stuff from cigarettes. Please.” He quickly interjected, noticing Jacob beginning to open his mouth. “I don’t want you neglecting yourself.”

Jacob almost deflated, but somewhere in himself knew Arno was right. 

“You’re not just gonna up and leave.” Not a question.

“I’ll stay and wait.” A promise.

Jacob nodded and decided to believe him, going back to get closer with him and leaning in, almost questioning before it was answered by Arno closing the distance and kissing him chastely, hands gently holding Jacob’s face and thumbs running across his cheeks and the unkempt bristles. It wasn’t a long one and left Jacob a bit upset as he felt it end, but he opened his eyes and nodded at the encouragement he saw.

“Right. Won’t take too long. Make yourself comfortable.”

“Take your time. We have time.”

Jacob really wanted to believe him on that last point.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the song "What About Love?" by Heart! I had so many ideas for this chapter's inspiration but this one spoke to me.  
> Because you know those things that just completely escape you? Escape your understanding on how they were made and what direction they went in? Yeah. That was this.
> 
> Come say hi and hang out on my [tumblr](https://straight-into-the-animus.tumblr.com/). I promise I'm really dumb and fun with my memes! And I'm always accepting requests! Safety and peace!


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